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I flew at him, shrieking and screaming 




OUTDOOR STORIES 
FOR INDOOR FOLK 


By 

JANE ALSTINE HEIGH WAY 

M 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

EMMA TROTH 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 






>0 






Copyright 1917 
The Bobbs-Merrill Company 




PRESS OF 

BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
BOOK MANUFACTURERS 
BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



JUN 25 1317 


©GI.A467561 

I - 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Mother Robin’s Story ..... 1 

What the Lilies Said to Jane .... 27 

The Story of Ruth 53 

The Mysterious Box 63 

When Pan Pipes . . . . . . .90 


V 


/ 


OUTDOOR STORIES 
FOR INDOOR FOLK 



Outdoor Stories for 
Indoor Folk 

MOTHER ROBIN’S STORY 



.s jolly Mr. Sun began to streak the 


jljL East with faint gleams of amber 
and gold, the twinkling little stars with- 
drew one by one from their all-night 
watch. The darkness slowly melted into 
the dim gray dawn and that in turn 
broke into a soft golden yellow until 
the dust of amber and gold filled all the 
East with a glorious flood of light. 

A happy little breeze wandered from 
nowhere and set the tender leaves in the 
Green Woods dancing, while from their 


I 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

•)<^o^=>o<=>o^=>o^=foc^i'x=^o<=>0'^=>o<=:x. 

dusky depths the birds softly called one 
another to their morning devotions. 
“Chirp ! chirp !” sang Mr. Robin, awak- 
ened by the gentle stirring of the old 
oak’s leaves. “Sweet! sweet!” softly 
twittered Mrs. Robin from one of the 
lower branches. And Mr. Robin, in- 
spired by the answering note, burst forth 
into a wonderful song of gladness and 
welcome — a welcome to Mrs. Robin, 
and to the season of beauty and joy. 

It was the season when Mother Earth 
was awakening. All the little seeds that 
had lain asleep in the dark underground 
world for many weary weeks were 
awake and striving to climb into the 
warm June sunshine above to give to the 
green world their messages of joy and 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

gladness. Pretty flowers were spring- 
ing into life everywhere, flinging their 
bright-colored messages to every pass- 
erby, while Laughing Brook rippled 
and gurgled through the cool Green 
Woods and out into the sunlit meadows 
below. 

Summer was at hand and Mother 
Earth was enjoying the season of her 
youth. The mysterious force we call 
Life was shaping and forming wonder- 
ful and strange things, so that every day 
brought forth new beauties. 

On this particular morning Mrs. 
Robin, who loved the Green Woods 
and the soft June air, was very anxious 
that Baby Robin, fast asleep by her side, 
should wake up and enjoy it all with her. 


3 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

Most of all she wanted him to see jolly 
Mr. Sun start on his daily journey across 
the blue sky, 

“Wake up, Baby Robin, wake jip,” 
she called in a cheery voice. 

“Why, Mother,” said a very sleepy 
little voice, “have you a fat worm for 
my breakfast? I dreamed,” here Baby 
Robin yawned prodigiously, “that you 
gave me a whole mouthful of angle- 
worms, and um-m-um but they did taste 
good.” 

“I’ve never seen such a child for 
worms!” exclaimed Mrs, Robin. “No, 
Baby Robin, you’re going to get your 
own worms this morning.” 

And in fact Mrs. Robin had been 
thinking for some time about taking 


4 


MOTHER ROBIN STORY 

)C=>()c=>()‘g:^()^=>()<r~>()< — >()c=^()< — >()«c=:^()«g=^( 

Baby Robin across to the old orchard 
for his breakfast, and, after talking it 
over with Father Robin, had decided on 
this particular morning. She knew, of 
course, that a dangerous foe lurked in 
the orchard; but then Baby Robin had 
already made several little trips with her 
and she felt that he was strong enough 
to escape in case of need. 

Baby Robin was very much excited 
when she told him of the plan — espe- 
cially when she said that the rain during 
the night would have coaxed out a lot of 
worms and bugs. 

“Um-m-um!” he cried gleefully, as 
he blinked his greedy little eyes and 
brought his yellow bills together with a 
hungry little whack. 


5 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

Mrs. Robin sat very thoughtfully and 
very quietly for what seemed to Baby 
Robin to be a long time. But it wasn’t 
a long time at all; he only thought so 
because he was so hungry. Finally she 
gave a little flirt of her tail and wings 
and said: 

“Come, Baby Robin, jolly Mr. Sun 
has the feast ready and it is time for us 
to be going. But first let me warn you 
to beware of Mrs. Brown’s Yellow 
Pussy. You must watch for him every 
minute we are at the orchard, for he has 
long sharp claws and nothing so de- 
lights him as having tender young birds 
for his breakfast.” 

“Will we see Yellow Pussy this morn- 
ing?” innocently inquired Baby Robin. 

6 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

“I dare say we shall,” said Mrs. Robin 
grimly, “for he prowls about early every 
morning in search of his breakfast, 
plundering and killing wherever he 
goes.” 

At last Mrs. and Baby Robin really 
started for the orchard and flew straight 
for the old rail fence which separated 
the orchard from Mrs. Brown’s house. 
After looking about in every direction 
for enemies, Mrs. Robin decided to use 
the crooked old apple tree which grew 
nearest the garden fence for her lookout. 
From it she could keep a tireless watch 
for Yellow Pussy. 

You may be quite sure Baby Robin 
was very very hungry after all these de- 
lays. In fact he was so hungry that he 


7 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

i< »>'< >n< >»<— — »( 

soon forgot all about Yellow Pussy and 
thought only of bugs and worms. He 
ran a little distance and suddenly 
stopped still, perking his little head on 
one side and listening intently. Finally 
he seized something from the damp 
earth, and bracing his slender legs he 
tugged, oh, so hard ! Why, he pulled so 
hard he almost fell over backward when 
the worm let go. Then bracing himself 
a little better, he pulled again, and out 
came the fattest angleworm you ever 
saw. 

“My! my!” he exclaimed, swallowing 
very hard, “but that was a tough old fel- 
low. I fear I should be ill like the little 
Indoor Folk if I ate many like him.” 

“Be careful,” softly called Mrs. 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

X 'if— sn < > » <— -.n < . n < » n<— ;.f K ' ■ » 

Robin from her lookout, “for I see 
Yellow Pussy this very minute sharpen- 
ing his claws on the door-step, and he 
seems to be looking in our direction.” 

Now as a matter of fact Yellow Pussy 
had indeed looked in their direction and 
had caught sight of fat Baby Robin run- 
ning and hopping about in the grass. 
But, being a crafty rascal. Yellow Pussy 
looked quickly away as if he had seen 
nothing, casually stretched his big furry 
body, yawned, and then started leisurely 
down the garden walk. No sooner, how- 
ever, had he reached the rail fence than 
he suddenly flattened his yellow body 
upon the ground and began to crawl 
stealthily forward inch by inch toward 
Baby Robin. The nearer he approached 


9 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

the more nervously he twitched his tail, 
the fiercer gleamed the cruel light in 
his eyes. But just at the moment when 
Yellow Pussy was gathering himself for 
the fatal spring, Mrs. Robin, who had 
been anxiously peeking and peering 
about for him, finally caught sight of 
him. 

“Quick, Baby Robin! Quick! Yel- 
low Pussy is coming!” shrieked Mrs. 
Robin in a wild shrill voice as she flut- 
tered excitedly out from the tree. And 
Baby Robin was very quick indeed; so 
quick, in fact, that before Yellow Pussy 
could make his fatal spring he was in 
the air beside his mother and flying 
swiftly in the direction of the Green 
Woods. 

lO 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

When at last they reached the big 
maple tree that grew on the edge of the 
Green Woods, Mrs. Robin decided to 
stop and rest, for she feared that Baby 
Robin’s wings were not strong enough 
for a longer flight. 

“Whew, but that was a great race!” 
panted Baby Robin, as he gripped a 
slender limb tightly with his feet and 
looked back to see if Yellow Pussy was 
in pursuit. 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, that was a nar- 
row escape!” cried frightened Mrs. 
Robin, her heart still thumping hard 
against her breast. “Gracious! I only 
saw him just in the nick of time.” Then 
Mrs. Robin’s fear changed to indigna- 
tion and she became very cross. “It 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)^=>o<=’0<=>()<r=><><=’<)<==>o<=>(><=>()<=»o<=»f 

wouldn’t be so bad,” she scolded, “if 
Yellow Pussy were obliged to hunt for 
his living like the little animals who live 
entirely in Outdoorland; but probably 
at this very moment he has a nice dish of 
warm milk under his nose.” 

Baby Robin, who had hitherto been 
so full of trustful innocence, sat very 
quiet and thoughtful by his mother’s 
side, for fear had entered his little world 
of love and he had discovered one of his 
worst enemies. But he was so glad to be 
back in the Green Woods that he soon 
forgot his exciting experience and sat 
listening, like one bewitched, to the 
merry roundelay of Father Robin, who 
was flying from tree-top to tree-top sing- 
ing the same tender strains over and over 


12 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 
)-=^()-c=>()<=:>()<=^•()<=>()-^=><)<=D•()<=>()c=>()<=:^c 

again. Suddenly, Baby Robin sidled up 
cautiously to Mother Robin, and with a 
wistful note in his voice, said : 

“Mother dear, do tell me where you 
met Father Robin?” 

Mrs. Robin smiled gently, for she 
loved to tell Baby Robin stories about 
her own life and her early experiences. 

“Once upon a time,” she began im- 
pressively, “in the first warm sunshiny 
days of spring, I wandered over to the 
orchard to watch Mr. Sun sink behind 
the purple and gold hills yonder. It was 
in the jolly month of April; the air was 
still chilly, but very, very bright. In the 
orchard I met many of my summer 
friends who had recently arrived, like 
myself, from the Southland. And chief 


13 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

among them, on the topmost bough of 
an apple tree, was your Father. 

“His velvety head was thrown back, 
his bright red breast swelled and trem- 
bled with the wonderful strains of music 
which it was pouring forth. And,” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Robin, “it was this sunset 
song of love and peace which won my 
heart. Our wedding occurred shortly 
after this and we began housekeeping 
in these very same Green Woods. 

“Your Father,” continued Mrs. 
Robin, “was in the pink of condition, 
eating on an average of four dozen an- 
gleworms a day. Yes, Baby Robin, I 
said four dozen!” 

“Oh, my, but Father is a wonderful 
bird!” cried Baby Robin. “I wish,” he 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 
fc=^0’C=>0’C=^o<=>o<=>o<=^o<c=>0’C=:^o^^=^o^^=>^ 

continued, fidgeting uneasily and draw- 
ing near to his Mother’s side, “you 
would tell me why I have no brothers 
or sisters.” 

“First,” said Mrs. Robin, with a 
merry twinkle in her eyes, “I must tell 
you about the pretty nest in which you 
were hatched. Your Father and I had 
no end of trouble finding a suitable lo- 
cation for it, but at last, after much dis- 
cussion, we decided upon the stately 
elm. Immediately we began gathering 
material. My! what a jolly time we did 
have as we raced here and there through 
the Green Woods and old orchard for 
sticks, grass and tiny rootlets. 

“After placing these on a secure sup- 
port, your Father and I carried mud in 

G 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

our beaks from Smiling Brook and ‘pep- 
pered’ it into the material we had gath- 
ered. Then I got into the nest all wet 
with mud” — Mrs. Robin laughed heart- 
ily at the memory of her bedraggled ap- 
pearance — “and shaped and molded it 
to fit my body. The finishing touches 
were given by lining it with soft grass, 
a little moss and more tiny rootlets.” 

“O — oh, that is a wonderful story,” 
said Baby Robin, who was brimful of 
curiosity. “Tell me some more.” 

“It was in this cozy nest,” resumed 
Mother Robin, “that I laid my four 
greenish blue eggs, and it was there you 
were hatched.” 

“But tell me,” pleaded Baby Robin, 
“what became of the other three eggs.” 

i6 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

»« >»<——>(« >t><— — MW" 

“Well,” said Mrs. Robin sadly, “that 
is a rather pitiful story. You know this 
brooding and rearing of young birds is 
not all peace and harmony; there are 
many terrible and harrowing experi- 
ences.” 

Poor Mrs. Robin was a little tired 
from her labors of the summer, and sad- 
dened, too, by the awful tragedy which 
had occurred in her own household. 
But she was full of Robin pride and 
hoped that her experiences in the great 
Outdoorland would help to make Baby 
Robin brave when his own days of trial 
should come. 

“One bright morning,” she began, 
“when jolly Mr. Sun peeped through 
the branches of the old elm, your Father 


17 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

.n.^— >n< >(1< -1L>( 

and I set out to dig angleworms for 
breakfast. We were gone only a short 
time, but also, it was a minute too long. 
When we returned we found an ugly in- 
truder in our nest. Who do you suppose 
it was. Baby Robin?” 

“Ugh, a snake!” shuddered Baby 
Robin. “I just know it was a snake.” 

“No, you’re quite wrong, though some 
snakes do climb trees to hunt for birds’ 
eggs. No, though it pains me to tell you, 
the intruder happened to be one of our 
little neighbors of the Green Woods.” 

“Oh, my, my!” cried Baby Robin, “do 
tell me: Was it noisy, scolding Mr. Blue 
Jay? I do so dislike his disagreeable 
manners, and — and nobody seems to 
like him very well.” 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

>('« ttw .(X >(>< ,I-U >f 

“You are right,” said Mother Robin 
frankly, “about Mr. Jay’s manners. He 
is very rude, and his bad manners are 
well known. But it wasn’t he that stole 
my pretty, greenish blue eggs.” 

Baby Robin was deeply moved; he 
had never seen Mother Robin so sad, 
and he cried sympathetically: “Oh, 
dear! Oh, dear! I am so puzzled.” He 
couldn’t understand how any of his little 
neighbors of the Green Woods, who 
seemed to him so harmless, could have 
tormented his dear Mother. 

“It was none other than Furry Red 
Squirrel, who lives in yonder tree-top,” 
remarked Mrs. Robin, turning her eyes 
indignantly in the direction of a tall 
maple tree. “We found him sitting on 


19 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

><>< >»< >»< >»< >o<— 

the edge of our nest eating one of the 
eggs. Together your Father and I flew 
at him, shrieking and screaming at the 
top of our voices, and for once in his life 
Furry was really frightened. Seizing 
another of the eggs he started to make a 
hasty retreat down the tree, chattering 
and scolding in a violent manner.” 

“Oh, dear ! Oh, dear !” moaned Baby 
Robin, “did Furry really eat the second 
egg too. Mother?” 

“No,” replied Mrs. Robin, with a 
grim look, “we deprived him of that 
pleasure. He dropped the egg when 
your Father and I flew at him with every 
feather on end, and I imagine he was 
very glad to get safely back to his home 
in the maple tree.” 


20 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

)•C=^•()■=^-()<==^•()<===>()<==^()<===>()<==^•()<=>()<=^()<=>C 

“But didn’t your pretty egg break 
when Furry dropped it?” asked Baby 
Robin pitifully. 

“Yes, alas!” said Mrs. Robin with a 
sigh. 

“What did you do then?” 

“We could do nothing,” replied Mrs. 
Robin despairingly. “I was so fright- 
ened that I couldn’t even count my eggs. 
Finally your Father came and, in a com- 
forting tone, said: ‘My dear, let me 
count the eggs; you are very nervous 
and wrought up and one can never 
count accurately when one is in such an 
excited state of mind.’ I turned pale with 
hope; but, after your dear Father had 
counted the eggs over and over until his 
poor head was dizzy, he said, ‘Why, I 


21 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 
>»< >»< 

declare! There are only two eggs left, 
after all.’ 

“In due time,” continued Mrs. Robin 
after an interval of silence, “you and 
Brother Bob pecked your way out of 
the thin shells and began calling lustily 
for food.” 

Baby Robin was much impressed 
and said solemnly: “Were we pretty 
babies?” 

“No,” answered Mrs. Robin frankly, 
“I can’t say you were really pretty, 
though you were very precious and 
wonderful.” 

“I haven’t a doubt of it,” said Baby 
Robin softly. 

Mrs. Robin yawned. “You see, my 
dear, you were very small and shape- 


22 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 

less. You each appeared to be all yellow 
bills and legs as you squirmed and wrig- 
gled around in the nest, gaping and teas- 
ing for food continuously. Goodness, 
how you two did eat! Why, we had to 
feed you and Brother Bob on an aver- 
age of every fourteen minutes. Think of 
that. Baby Robin I” 

“Oh, my! Oh, my!” cried Baby 
Robin sympathetically. 

“Of course,” said Mrs. Robin indul- 
gently, “I didn’t mind the care in the 
least, for my heart was overflowing with 
love, and it was fun to see how fast you 
grew.” 

“When did you ever find time to teach 
me to fly?” asked Baby Robin, as he 
stretched and spread his little wings. 


23 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

“Well,” said Mrs. Robin, cocking her 
head thoughtfully on one side, “your 
feathers grew after a while, and we 
coaxed you from the nest by holding a 
fat worm just beyond your reach. In 
trying to get it you reached just a lit- 
tle too far, and, bless your heart, down 
you fluttered to the ground, like the dead 
leaves.” 

“Didn’t it hurt me?” cried Baby 
Robin. 

“Not at all; it only frightened you,” 
laughed Mrs. Robin, as she remembered 
what a tippy, wabbly, fat little baby he 
had been. 

“But, Mother,” cried Baby Robin 
suddenly, “you haven’t told me what be- 
came of Brother Bob ! where — ” Baby 


24 


MOTHER robin’s STORY 


sn<— >n<— 

Robin did not finish his question, for 
just at that moment Mr. Robin lighted 
on the edge of the nest and popped a fat 
old angleworm right into Baby Robin’s 
yellow bill. 

“Father,” said Mrs. Robin, whose 
voice sounded tired and worn, “you 
must finish my story for me. Baby 
Robin wants to know what became of 
his Brother Bob.” 

The astonished Mr. Robin cocked his 
head thoughtfully on one side and began 
to scratch his cheek. 

“This is not a pleasant subject even 
for me,” he said at last, “and really there 
is not much to tell you. Baby Robin. 
Look! do you see that large fluffy Yel- 
low Cat, with green eyes and fierce 


25 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

w > n< > »<— — >o< 

whiskers, coming through the woodlot 
crying ‘Miao-w, Miao-w,’ at every 
step?” 

“Where? oh, where?” cried Baby 
Robin, glancing in every direction. 

“Hush, be very quiet,” whispered 
Father Robin. “See, he is sharpening 
his claws on that old log yonder. Well, 
that is the very same Yellow Cat who 
slew your unfortunate Brother Bob 
when he fell out of the nest. And since 
the rogue is looking in our direction 
with those sharp eyes of his, I really be- 
lieve it would be wise for us to be go- 
ing.” 

Thereupon, Mr. Robin and Mrs. 
Robin and Baby Robin flew swiftly 
away into the Green Woods. 


26 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID 
TO JANE 


J ANE went to sleep in the tall bend- 
ing grass on the Prairie where she 
had been wandering in search of wild 
flowers. She had thrown herself upon 
the warm grass that she might better 
watch a gorgeous butterfly which was 
daintily sipping nectar from the pretty 
flower cups held out for his refreshment, 
and had fallen fast asleep in a bed of 
blossoms. Jane dearly loved the magic 
and changing beauty of the sunlit Prai- 
ries. Here was her wonder-world; the 
riotous beauty of colors, lights and 
shades spoke to her imagination as no 


27 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

Other aspect of Nature. Its varied 
changes and numerous surprises re- 
vealed to her wonders as remarkable as 
Fairy-land itself. 

The “Honk! honk!” of the wild gan- 
der, as he led his flying squadron home- 
ward through the pathways of the dusky 
evening sky, struck a responsive chord 
in Jane. But no music in Nature was 
sweeter to her ears than the music of 
the prairie-chickens, when, from some 
dawn-lighted knoll, they boomed in 
chorus a herald to the coming wonders 
of a cool spring daybreak. The wild 
bees made the Prairies musical with 
their buzz, and were like the other 
forms of wild life amid this rural sce- 


28 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

sn<— S(>^— 

nery, — her friends, forever speaking to 
her eyes and ears the praises of the Cre- 
ator. 

The Prairies seemed to be filled with 
pleasure and instruction, and nothing 
thrilled Jane with a keener sense of en- 
joyment than to watch the long stretch 
of bright grass rise and swell into green 
billows and dark hollows, where the 
frolicsome wind chased golden and red 
flowers into sunny ridges. Jane had 
been born on the Prairie and had grown 
up there as naturally and contentedly as 
the brightly colored flowers. She not only 
dearly loved these free-born gifts of Na- 
ture, but she could call most of them by 
name, telling you of their haunts, their 


29 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

»n< >o< >('< >.n< >o<— 

habits, and their peculiar medicinal vir- 
tues. Nature had poured these flower 
treasures with lavish hand throughout 
the prairie-lands, and their subtle beauty 
took full possession of Jane’s sensitive 
nature, causing her life to expand with 
joy and gladness. 

The flower she loved best, however, 
and the one which kindled her imagina- 
tion most, was the red Meadow Lily, a 
torch kindled by Mother Nature to light 
up these lonely places. At the time of 
our little-story the Prairies were aflame 
with its radiance. 

The beautiful Lilies reminded Jane 
of golden bells tinkling with the very 
spirit of outdoors, — acclaiming with joy 
the bright sunny hours of June and July 
in this happy wild garden of hers. No 


30 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

>»<—>»<•— >n<— >n<— >f 

wonder Jane’s spirit called up a fairy 
vision and she walked in a lovely dream. 

The wild honey bees flew busily and 
quickly among the plants, getting all 
they could from each blossom. They 
popped their heads into flower after 
flower, lingering a little, and then 
scrambled out and away with their 
precious drop of honey. A great dozy 
bumblebee poked his head into some 
flower cups near Jane’s side, and lei- 
surely filling his pollen baskets, he lum- 
bered along with his heavy load to Bum- 
blebee Town. The soft purr of the 
midget humming-bird’s motor could be 
heard among the flowers, while the lone- 
liness of the Prairie was broken by the 
prairie-hawk’s not unmusical note. 


31 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

“Ke-e-you! ke-e-you!” as he soared 
high in the blue sky on outstretched 
wings. A meadow lark sat compla- 
cently on her eggs in a hollow depres- 
sion in the ground near a high tuft of 
grass. The father bird was singing 
“Sweet, sweet, sweet, oh, happy am I!” 
His music was heavenly, and as perva- 
sive as the warm sunshine itself, while 
from the field of waving rye came the 
cheery whistle of “Bob, Bob White.” 

The sun high in the blue sky rained a 
deluge of light all over the Prairies and 
the Lilies and Jane. All at once Jane 
became wide awake (at least, that is 
what she told her mother afterward) and 
looked out over the Prairie with dreamy 
eyes. “Dear me,” she said, “I wish I 


32 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 
>»< >»< 

knew how many things there are in the 
great Outdoorland.” Then she started 
and sat up very straight. “I know one 
thing,” she continued; “I am tired of all 
that dry book-stuff we learn about at 
school. I should much rather learn 
about what is going on right now on 
this glorious Prairie where God has 
clothed all things in such beautiful gar- 
ments, than to know about nouns and 
verbs and problems in fractions. Oh, 
my!” she exclaimed, her face aglow 
with happiness as she watched the gor- 
geous butterfly drift leisurely about sip- 
ping nectar from the dainty flower cup, 
“I do wish most of all that everything in 
the world of Nature had a voice and 
could talk to me.” 


33 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

»n<— >»< >n< >o< 

Jane’s heart beat high with joy as her 
wistful eyes swept the Prairies. The soft 
air filled with the fragrance of flowers 
came to her on billowy waves. “Now, 
Mr. Butterfly,” she was speaking very 
softly, her hands clasped on her lap 
and tears glistening in her eyes, as she 
pleaded, “why can’t you talk to me? I 
know you must have something very in- 
teresting to tell about yourself.” 

The Butterfly, like a gleaming jewel, 
rose into the bright air, sailed about for 
just a moment, and finally settled upon 
the tip end of a spear of grass which 
Jane held in her hand. “Indeed, I have 
something interesting to tell you. I shall 
be honored and delighted to tell you 
something about myself.” 


34 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 


“It will be a great pleasure to me,” an- 
swered Jane politely. 

“You see, I am one of the most inter- 
esting of ail living creatures. Why, 
child,” exclaimed the Butterfly enthusi- 
astically, “my life history is much more 
interesting and wonderful than any- 
thing you have ever read about in fairy 
stories.” He paused, then resumed med- 
itatively: “I was a big green caterpillar 
once upon a time,” and he airily waved 
his wings. 

“A-a-big, green worm?” asked Jane, 
much surprised. 

“Exactly,” said the Butterfly, making 
a zigzag, dodging movement among the 
Lilies which showed off to perfection 
the exquisite and brilliant coloring of 


35 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)«=»o<=>o^=oc^o<=:S’0'e=>o<=>0'C=:>0'C=’()'e=»( 

his wings. He pointed one slender 
feeler at the Lilies and in a whisper, 
which was like a little breeze stirring 
the leaves, said : “Child, the Lilies have 
something to say to you, and I think that 
now is as good a time as any in which to 
teach you a thing or two about Outdoor- 
land, now while you are asleep.” 

“Dear me” — and she gave herself a 
little pinch — “am I asleep?” inquired 
Jane, much mortified. 

“If you are, so much the better for us 
story-tellers. Perhaps your mind won’t 
be wandering about as it does in school 
when you have an important lesson to 
learn.” 

Jane cast a guilty look at the Butterfly, 
but made no reply. She thought that she 
36 



Jane cast a guilty look at the butterfly 



WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 
)^^o^=>0'C=>o<:^(>‘C^o^^aG:>oo=»0'C=^(>'C=s< 

had never seen the Prairies so lovely as 
they were on this particular day. They 
steeped her soul in reveries and dreams 
of enchantment, so soft, so wild and en- 
trancing was their beauty. It seemed to 
Jane, too, that she had never seen the 
Lilies shine with such a wonderful color 
and light. As she thought about it after- 
ward, she wondered that the light had 
not dissolved their soft shining petals 
and delicate hues, though perhaps that 
was what gave them their purity and 
sweetness. 

“You are very kind to say such beau- 
tiful things, and you are very intelligent 
for an Indoor child,” came a clear sil- 
very voice carried on a little breeze 
which swayed the lily bells till their yel- 


37 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

u ' > n > >o<r— >.o « X 

low and red lights flashed and reflashed 
with dazzling brightness. 

“My! but you are truly wonderful!” 
cried Jane, with a wistful smile. “But — 
but,” she stammered, “did you really say 
that?” 

“We certainly did,” cordially replied 
the Lilies. “It is strange,” they con- 
tinued, “that you know so little about 
Outdoorland, and particularly, about 
our family, when the Great Teacher of 
Life commanded you to ‘Consider the 
Lilies of the Field.’ ” 

“Yes — it is strange,” admitted Jane. 

The Lilies seemed to be looking at 
Jane; then one in a sweet gentle voice 
said; “Perhaps, child, you do not un- 
derstand, but what richer or more de- 
38 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

><>< MM— MK— Vn.-— Sf 

lightful lesson could you learn, one that 
is filled with more wisdom and instruc- 
tion than that which you would get by 
studying the life and behavior of my 
family?” 

Jane nodded her head in assent and 
with a yawn said: “O — oh! I think so 
too.” She began to feel very warm and 
very sleepy, as one does feel on a hot day 
in July. She gave a little sigh and gazed 
out over the Prairies dreamily. A smile 
spread across her face. “Yes,” she said 
slowly, “I dearly love the Lilies, and 
really I should like to know all about 
your wonderful family — especially 
since the Great Teacher has singled 
you out and commanded us to learn of 
you.” Jane noticed that the Lilies had 


39 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 
>»< >»< 

changed; they now seemed to glisten 
with tiny drops of dew, and the very air 
sparkled with wonderful light and mois- 
ture. 

“It would make too long a story if I 
were to tell you all that is to be told about 
my family, for it is a large one. For in- 
stance, several members of my family 
grow in the water; one of these, the 
white water-lily, is of high-born parent- 
age and enjoys the proud distinction of 
kinship to the sacred Lotus of the Ori- 
ent, and its beauty has been celebrated in 
art and poetry.” 

“Oh ! I am so glad to know that,” ex- 
claimed Jane joyously, clapping her 
hands, “for Father said the white water- 
lily was the queen of our waters, but I 


40 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

>»<— — MX >.n< >»<— >1 

said they looked to me like a flock of 
white swans floating in their green, leafy 
nests.” 

“I am very glad,” said the Lily feel- 
ingly, “that a member of my family has 
given you such a thrill of pleasure, and 
has furnished your mind with so charm- 
ing a picture. But,” she continued, flam- 
ing out in a resplendent light, “every 
object in nature should make you glow 
with emotion. That is why God made it 
all, and that is why great souls think and 
write beautiful thoughts. The beauty 
which we see and feel plants its seed in 
us.” For a few minutes silence fell be- 
tween the Lilies and Jane, and then a 
long-drawn sigh seemed to attract the 
meditating Lilies which were shining 


41' 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

3<=^<)'C=><)<='0<=>()'^='0<=>()<=50<=:>0'=3'<)«=>< 

with a brilliant luster, and they said pas- 
sionately: “Blessed is he who meditates 
good things.” Then the Lily which had 
spoken before continued: “It is my sa- 
cred duty to tell you that Nature writes 
poetry as well as man. She, too, is a poet 
of the good God,” — and the Lily’s voice 
was low and very, very sweet. 

“That is most interesting,” observed 
Jane, “but really, I don’t care much for 
poetry, especially the kind we have at 
school. There doesn’t seem to be any life 
in it. In fact, we skip most of it and read 
something more thrilling.” This remark 
was made with a careless and indifferent 
air, although Jane had no intention of 
being unkind. She thought the Lilies 
looked sad and pained, but she was not 


42 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

sure, for in a moment they sparkled and 
shone with a more wonderful light than 
ever. 

“You poor little Indoor child, don’t 
you know that the world of Nature is 
full of poetry? God made all the beauti- 
ful things in the great Outdoorland — 
the mountains, the trees, the birds, the 
grass and flowers, and the running 
brook — to arouse a noble response in 
you Indoor Folk; and when great souls 
feel this thrill of joy strongly enough the 
emotion shapes itself into beautiful 
flowers of thought, which are known as 
poetry, music and art.” 

Jane exclaimed, “Oh! — oh!” 

The Lily continued her story: “The 
true way to teach you little Indoor chil- 


43 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

dren is to let you grow up naturally as 
we flowers do, in beautiful gardens, 
treating each little child like a flower.” 

“Oh, my !” cried Jane excitedly, “what 
an interesting school that would be. I 
am very sure I would like to go to such 
a school and perhaps I should like 
poetry then. That must have been what 
the Great Teacher of Life meant when 
he commanded the people many hun- 
dreds of years ago to ‘Consider the lilies,’ 
and to ‘Behold the fowls of the air.’ He 
wanted them to realize that they could 
learn many beautiful lessons in virtue 
and goodness from the common every- 
day things of life, and that a study of 
them would make their lives brighter 
and better.” 


44 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

Jane, from a small child, had pos- 
sessed the gift of striking magical 
dreams from the common every-day 
things of life. Philosophies of life 
seemed to form for her without effort, 
and she could read thrilling meanings 
into the simplest every-day happening. 
At length the Lily spoke again to Jane. 
“Yes, yon are right, and you are re- 
markably bright. That is precisely 
what the Great Teacher of Life meant. 
He wished you Indoor children to in- 
terpret the flowers, the birds, the hills 
and streams in the highest terms of 
thought. Oh, my dear child,” she con- 
tinued with much fervor, “to love is to 
understand everything in life. But re- 
member, you must first really and truly 


45 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

L— " . (v>— — •c tl.t—xw — 

love the great Outdoorland and every- 
thing in it if you wish it to reveal its se- 
crets to you. Beautiful things can not 
be seen by coarse or vulgar eyes — only 
the pure in heart can see the wonderful 
truths taught by Nature.” 

“Do all the Outdoor Folk love the In- 
door Folk?” eagerly questioned Jane. 

“Yes,” replied the Lily, brightening 
up, “they not only love you, but they 
long for your love in return. Little 
bunny rabbit, listening to us under the 
wild rose bush, loves you. That little 
yellow and black striped gopher, stand- 
ing upright with folded forepaws, cu- 
riously watching you, seeks your friend- 
ship; the blue-bird nesting in that old 
post yonder, the grass, the trees, all are 
46 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

)^=’0'C=><)'C='0<=>()-C=-<)'=:>0<=^<)<=^()<=:»0<=^( 

alive and all love you and long for your 
love in return. Will you not give it to 
them?” 

“Yes,” whispered Jane. 

A bee slowly crawled from one of the 
Lily’s “fairy-caps,” and said: “It is all 
very well to talk about Nature’s poetry, 
but I dislike being left out of the scheme 
of life entirely — especially when the 
members of my family do so much to- 
ward making all this beauty. Nature 
has many workers and that is why the 
world is so beautiful: the sun to give 
heat and light; the sea to supply the 
clouds with rain; the wind to carry 
seeds; the insects to carry pollen; and 
then finally life weaves it all into a beau- 
tiful garment we call Nature.” 


47 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

“I am a pollen carrier too,” interposed 
the Butterfly, pointing one slender feeler 
at the Bee. 

“Yes, indeed,” said the Bee, “the But- 
terfly is regarded as a very able pollen 
carrier.” The Butterfly was much flat- 
tered at this remark from busy Bee, and 
lifted one slini forefoot in acknowledg- 
ment. 

“You have heard what my dear friend 
the Bee has said,” remarked the Lily; 
“now sit very quietly, my dear, for he 
has kindly consented to give us a few 
more minutes of his valuable time.” 

“You may well say valuable,” ex- 
claimed the Bee. “I am an example of 
industry to the entire world, and I give 
one piece of work to the world which is 
48 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

very near perfection. For ages my 
honeycomb has been admired by math- 
ematicians. Yes, by wise and learned 
mathematicians, I repeat.” 

“But,” observed the Butterfly, “you 
work yourself to death in one season. 
You should profit by my example, make 
yourself a cradle, a snug little bed, and 
go to sleep when you get tired.” 

“Sleep !” snapped the Bee, the least bit 
angered at the Butterfly’s presumption; 
“when there is so much to be done? 
Who would make immortal honey, me- 
theglin and ambrosia, my gifts to the 
world (and poets say it was the food of 
the gods), if I followed the Butterfly’s 
advice and went to sleep? Fie, fie ! Mr. 
Butterfly,” he exclaimed with decision. 


49 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

“It may be right for you, but not for a 
busy Bee. I prefer to swim the delicious 
waves of summer air and visit the sunny 
banks of flowers. Besides, who would 
tell my story to the world if I went to 
sleep? But I must say good-by and go 
on my way gathering honey while the 
sun shines.” And the little brown sailor 
flew up into the sunshine and sailed 
away on the waves of air across the blos- 
som-scented Prairie. 

When she could no longer hear his 
drowsy tune, Jane exclaimed : “The Bee 
told a very interesting story. I liked that 
part of his story where he said that many 
things must work together before any- 
thing worth while can be completed in 
Outdoorland.” 


50 


WHAT THE LILIES SAID TO JANE 

“Yes, the Bee,” said the Lily cor- 
dially, “gave us an example of the law 
of mutual help. Nothing is done by it- 
self — each works for the good of all — 
even the humble things as bees and flow- 
ers; and, finally, beauty and loveliness 
come out of the struggle. All work to- 
gether, and in time bring into one huge 
volume all the order, harmony and joy 
which God has written in His great 
story-book, called Nature.” 

But all of a sudden Jane discovered 
that the Butterfly had gone, and that her 
Mother was loudly calling, “Jane! Oh, 
Jane !” As she ran through the tall sun- 
drenched grass toward her home, for it 
was luncheon time and past, she turned 
her blue eyes and saw the Butterfly flash- 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

>»< >»< >n< >»< 

ing like a large gem in the sunlight. He 
was seated on a tall weed waving his 
splendid wings in greeting. 

“Good-by,” whispered Jane, with an 
all-embracing smile as she ran past the 
Butterfly. Then she turned and threw a 
loving kiss to the Lilies. Jane could 
hear a very faint tinkling sound, which 
sounded to her like “Good-by.” 


THE STORY OF RUTH 


F ar, far back in the misty past, in the 
early morning of civilization when 
the world was still young, lived a woman 
whose name has come to stand for filial 
love and devotion — Ruth. She was born 
of poor laboring people in the country 
of Moab, a country hated and despised 
by the Israelites. Yet so great were her 
virtues that in the end she became the 
founder of the royal house of Israel and 
the great-grandmother of King David. 

Naomi had left Bethlehem with her 
husband and two sons during a time of 
famine, and come into the land of Moab. 
There her husband had soon died and 
her sons had married girls of the coun- 

53 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)'C=3'()^=>o<=S'0'C=>()<=>0'=:>()«=x)<=:>o^='()^=c 

try, Ruth and Orpah. But Naomi was 
to be sorely tried for both her sons 
quickly followed their father to the 
grave and left her alone with her daugh- 
ters-in-law. Then Naomi, learning 
from a kinsman in the land of Judah that 
there was a rich harvest there, decided 
to return from the land of Moab. But, 
though she loved Ruth and Orpah as if 
they were her own daughters, Naomi felt 
that it would not be right for her to take 
them from their own country. She there- 
fore told them that they were at liberty 
to return to their own homes and to take 
new husbands. 

Orpah kissed Naomi good-by, but 
Ruth refused to desert her old and lonely 
mother-in-law, saying: 


54 


THE STORY OF RUTH 


)«:»<)<=> 0 <=><)<=> 0 «=»()^ 3 .()<= 3 . 0 .=> 0 «=> 0 <= 5 < 

“Entreat me not to leave thee, or to 
return from following after thee: for 
whither thou goest, I will go ; and where 
thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people 
shall be my people, and thy God my 
God.” In these words, as in all of Ruth’s 
words, are seen her true and genuine 
love and her utter forgetfulness of self. 

When Naomi and Ruth set forth on 
their journey to Judah dawn was just 
breaking. The host of stars which had 
watched in the vast silence of the night 
were disappearing one by one, and the 
first faint beam of light had begun to 
streak the East with a rosy glow. 

Never had Naomi felt the irony of life 
more sharply than on this morning when 
she trudged slowly and painfully along 


55 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

the road to Bethlehem, — sorrow and fa- 
tigue showing on her care-worn face. 
She was old, and the way of life had been 
lonely and sorrowful, for those that had 
set out with her were gone from her side, 
both her husband and her sons. Ruth, 
who had started out in a joyful spirit, 
noticed how sad Naomi was and tried to 
cheer her by singing bright snatches 
of song. But it was of little avail, and 
Ruth’s only hope was that these signs of 
sorrow would vanish from Naomi’s face 
when she should once again behold her 
native country and hear the voices of her 
kinsmen. 

At last, footsore and weary, they came 
to a high plateau from which they could 
see the distant village of Bethlehem, 
56 


THE STORY OF RUTH 

nestling at the foot of the hills which 
were crowned with vines and olive trees. 
It was early morning, — a deep peace 
brooded over the landscape as Naomi 
and Ruth began descending toward 
Bethlehem. Here and there they met 
shepherds, some of whom were standing 
like sentinels over their sheep, while 
others, tired of keeping guard, were 
curled up in their sheep skins asleep. 
Finally, the weary travelers found them- 
selves approaching the village houses 
which were surrounded by date, palm 
and fig trees that seemed to enfold them 
in a fragrant and soothing coolness. 

At the entrance to Bethlehem the 
keeper of the gate stopped them and 
looking curiously at Naomi said: 


57 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 
>■c=^()<^r>o<^r^^>()■e=>o<=>()<=^o■^=^()<=::>(x^^()<=>c 

“Daughter, art thou not Naomi, who 
left us when the famine was here?” 

And piteously Naomi answered: 
“Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for 
the Almighty hath dealt full bitterly with 
me.” (Mara means bitter.) 

The entire village was moved with 
pity for the stricken Naomi. They 
cheered and comforted her, reminding 
her that the Lord never deserts those 
who are in distress. And Naomi, ready 
to submit humbly to whatever might be 
God’s will, settled down with Ruth in 
Bethlehem. 

Now it was the glorious harvest time 
in the fields, and on every side the golden 
grain swayed joyfully in the breeze, 
while from far and near came shouts of 
58 


THE STORY OF RUTH 

merry laughter as the reapers swung 
their sickles. Small children played 
among the sheaves while their mothers 
and older sisters followed the reapers, 
gleaning the fallen grain and tying it 
into neat little bundles. Far in the rear 
of this fair harvest scene was the lordly 
Boaz, mounted upon a horse, watching 
the reapers work. 

Ruth’s spirit was aglow at the wonder- 
ful sight, and she was eager, as always, 
to do her share of the work. 

“Let me go into the fields, dear 
Mother, where the reapers reap the 
corn,” she gaily entreated. “Let me 
glean among the sheaves as do the other 
women.” 

“Go, my daughter,” said Naomi, “and 


lS9 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

gather the gleanings of the harvest 
which Boaz, a wealthy kinsman of ours, 
hath left for the poor and the stranger.” 

So Ruth went to the fields of Boaz and 
gleaned after the reapers, earnestly in- 
tent upon her humble task. And the 
lordly Boaz saw her standing in the 
midst of the waving grain, her dark hair 
falling in curls about her face and a 
flush on her cheeks like the red of the 
poppies which grew among the corn. 
Then Boaz, asking his servant who she 
was, approached and spoke in a kindly 
manner to her, for he had heard of her 
loyalty to his kinswoman, Naomi. 

“Go not from hence, my daughter, but 
glean among the sheaves,” he said. “This 
field is mine, and all that the reapers 
6o 



“Go not from hence, my daughter” 




THE STORY OF RUTH 

>n« >(w— ^n< 

leave behind, which thou wantest, shall 
be thine.” 

But Ruth, looking up at him in a hum- 
ble and artless manner, pointed to her 
worn and soiled garments and said in a 
trembling voice: “Why have I found 
favor, O my lord, in thine eyes? Why 
shouldst thou take notice of me, seeing 
I am a stranger, a depised Moabite?” 

And Boaz, who now saw for himself 
the real nobility of Ruth’s soul, replied 
in a gentle voice: “I know the goodly 
deeds thou hast done to my kinswoman, 
O my daughter.” 

Then Boaz went among the workers 
and told them to be kind to Ruth, and to 
help her as much as they could. He 
himself watched her at work, and be- 


6i 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

came constantly more and more aware of 
Ruth’s fine spirit, of her loyalty, her hu- 
mility, her unselfishness. 

When the harvest was finished Ruth 
returned from her work in the fields for 
good and all, for Boaz took her to be his 
wife. Mounted upon two splendid 
horses, amid the clash of cymbals, the 
melody of dulcimer and trumpet, and 
songs of praise and rejoicing, these two 
whom the Lord had joined together left 
the little town of Rethlehem. 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 


(Introductory Note : Long ago, when the earth 
was young, the minds of men were like those of 
little children, wherein curiosity and imagination 
play the leading parts. Curiosity led them to won- 
der about the cause and the beginning of things, 
to ask why and whence, where and when, when- 
ever they thought about the facts of Life and Na- 
ture ; and imagination led them to invent . stories 
with which to answer all these questions about the 
things which so puzzled them. There was no Bible 
to teach them and to open their eyes to the truth, 
none of the great discoveries which science has made 
was there to guide them, and therefore they grew 
to believe that the stories which they, with child- 
like imagination, had invented were really true. The 
one which I am about to tell you is one of these 
stories. It is called ‘‘The Mysterious Box.”) 

O NCE upon a time, in the dim far- 
away years when our beautiful 
Earth was in her early childhood, man 
lived alone. It was a time when all 

63 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

>n<— ■s»<— sn.^^o< 

things were gay, joyous and happy. 
There was no sickness, sin, sorrow or 
death. Life was one long eternal spring- 
time. Man gathered about him a few 
animals; the horse to ride; the ox to 
plow, the faithful dog for friendship, 
and they lived together like brothers. 
But none of these afforded him real 
companionship since they could not talk 
to him. Man longed for a fellow crea- 
ture who possessed feelings like his own. 
Zeus, the father of gods and creation, 
according to the Greek idea, assigned 
the labor of making man’s companion to 
Vulcan, the celestial artist, and there- 
upon hangs our curious tale. 

“Is thy labor completed, Vulcan?” in- 
quired the great Olympian King. 

64 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

“Yes, most glorious Zeus, it is fin- 
ished,” triumphantly I'eplied Vulcan. 
“This lovely form is molded of the soft, 
plastic clay, yet warm with the genial 
heat of Earth. It possesses the tang and 
flavor of primal things, which will fit 
Woman to meet her mortal needs.” 

Thereupon, Zeus summoned the gods 
and goddesses from their respective 
dwellings, whenceforth they repaired 
to the workshop of Vulcan. He then 
led Vulcan’s fair creation into the pres- 
ence of the gods, and in an august man- 
ner proclaimed: “Vulcan, this lovely 
creature which thou has fashioned out 
of clay is not finished until I breathe the 
breath of life into her nostrils ; then she 
will move and speak and become a liv- 

65 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

ing soul. But to be perfect, Woman 
must be showered with the gifts of the 
gods. Give to her, therefore, exquisite 
grace of body, charm and beauty of 
mind and heart, and the much coveted 
gift of wisdom. She will then be a com- 
panion to lonely man.” 

Gracious Aphrodite, the daughter of 
Jupiter, and the first to offer a gift, pre- 
sented herself among the gods and god- 
desses. She was distinguished by her 
graceful stature and superior beauty. 
She stooped and gently kissed the pale 
lips of Woman. There was a slight 
tremor of the body, the pale lips became 
rosy, while the sweetest smile imagina- 
ble lighted up her face. Woman had re- 
ceived the gift of beauty. 

66 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

)>=>0'C=>0^='0^='<)'C=>()<=;><)<=^<)^=>0:c:^0'C=>c 

Next came wise Athene, clad in silver- 
white raiment and wearing a golden cor- 
onet set with rare gems upon her lovely 
head. In her hand she carried a fra- 
grant budding olive branch. She draped 
about Woman a veil that enveloped her 
in its fleecy folds like white and silver 
mist. Gently laying her hands upon 
Woman’s head, in the act of bestowing 
her wisdom, Athene exclaimed in a 
prophetic voice : “My gift to Woman is 
wisdom ; she will be wise to depart from 
evil, she will be guided by wisdom in all 
that she may say or do. She will also be 
skilled in everything which may en- 
noble and uplift mankind. Woman, 
you shall be dexterous to sew, to spin, to 
weave ; you shall perform all manner of 
67 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)'=>0-C=3’0.=>0<=>0<=’t)«=>0<=X)'C^<)<=>0«=>C 

household work. But greatest of all 
your gifts will be the genius for train- 
ing children in goodness and truth so 
that they may live upright lives and con- 
tribute to the world’s advancement to- 
ward perfection.” With a low bow the 
goddess of wisdom reverently withdrew. 

There were two gods whose gifts were 
meant to adorn both the mind and body. 
These all gracious gift-givers were 
Apollo, the god of light, poetry and mu- 
sic, and Eros, the divine spirit of love. 
Apollo not only represented the sun, 
that great orb of day, but the moon as 
well. Eros, with merry, roguish eyes 
and golden wings, a quiver slung lightly 
over his shoulder, a lighted torch in his 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

hands, made a charming picture as he 
approached Woman. 

“My gift to Vulcan’s glorious crea- 
tion is Love,” exclaimed the blessed son 
of Aphrodite. “Love lights up the 
whole universe with its generous flame. 
It makes all things anew. It was love 
that put music in the breast of Apollo, 
and gave beauty to the ‘sea-born,’ smil- 
ing Aphrodite. It makes the flower 
bloom and causes the running brook to 
sing for joy. Ah, lovely creature,” 
whispered Eros, “Love is the cause of 
every great and beautiful thing in the 
universe.” 

Whereupon, the lovable Eros tossed 
Woman a rose. This flower was held 
69 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

■T.^— >n<— >n<— vfw— 

sacred to the little god, and in this par- 
ticular instance, Eros wished his re- 
marks to be kept confidential. Hence, 
from that time, when love affairs are car- 
ried on secretly, they are said to be “un- 
der the rose.” 

Then Apollo drew near with his pre- 
cious gift, and deftly touched Woman’s 
lips and fingers while he chanted these 
words in melodious voice: “Mine is the 
gift of music; ah! wondrous creature, 
you shall make melody with your voice. 
Your sweet songs of home and Heaven 
will stir the heart to noble action and 
change the cares and sorrows of life into 
joys.” 

The last gift was presented by 
Hermes, the messenger of Zeus. With 


70 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

a mischievous twinkle in his eye he 
touched Woman’s eyes, her ears, her 
nose and her tongue with his wonderful 
wand, saying half jokingly: “My gift 
to Woman is curiosity. I give her the 
wish to see everything, hear everything, 
and know everything.” Again Hermes 
touched Woman’s tongue, and said, in 
bantering tones to Zeus: “May the jo- 
vial star reign over Woman’s life !” 

The Father of the gods gravely re- 
plied : “Hermes, let thy raillery be with- 
out malice.” 

Then, in a kindly manner, Zeus 
touched Woman’s brow with his golden 
scepter and in benign tones exclaimed: 
“You may arise. Woman! You have re- 
ceived all gifts. Forthwith I send you 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

>n<— >.n^->fi^-^n.g^o.g^o.g:s.O'g=S'C 

to Earth, where you will work wonders 
through what has been given you. We 
have given thee an image of the better 
life, which thou art to carry in thy 
bosom. There shall be usefulness and 
beauty in your life, which shall soften 
and sweeten the hard lot of mankind. 
We have also given thee a most fitting 
name: Pandora, which means ‘all 
gifts’ I 

“Hermes,” sternly demanded the Fa- 
ther of the gods, “lay thy harp aside; 
never should your joy be greater than 
upon this most important errand, which 
sends you earthward as my herald. Take 
this Woman to Epimetheus; tell him the 
gods in their great compassion sent him 
a wife, whom he is to love, even as him- 


72 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

>(><— >n<— 

self.” Zeus then gave Pandora a curious 
box made of ivory and gold with jeweled 
clasps. “Here is this Box,” said Zeus. 
“It is thy wedding present, and I charge 
thee. Pandora, it must never be opened.” 
The Father of gods knew full well that 
Hermes’ gift of curiosity would tempt 
the Woman to peep into the Box. 

Nike placed the customary wreath 
upon the head of “Victory-bringing” 
Zeus, and bore him to his seat upon 
Olympus, while the gods and goddesses 
all repaired to the great hall of the palace 
and feasted on ambrosia and nectar, the 
latter being served by the lovely goddess, 
Hebe. While the gods and goddesses 
are making merry, let us take a look at 
their herald, Hermes, as he whirs swiftly 


73 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)<=>O'C=>O'^^()«:»O'='Oc=>()<=>0'^=’O'^=’O^^< 

here and there in his haste to be off. For, 
you know, the King’s business admits of 
no delay. 

“Great Pan!” impatiently cried 
Hermes, as he reached for his winged 
sandals, “I no sooner unclasp these san- 
dals from my tired feet than I must clasp 
them on again and depart upon some 
foolish errand of the gods.” 

Accordingly, Hermes hurriedly 
clapped his winged cap tightly to his 
head and threw about his shoulders a 
black cloak-like wrap which enveloped 
him completely. Meanwhile, he closely 
examined his herald’s wand, a curious 
staff that was like two ugly serpents 
coiled around an olive-wood stick, while 
at the top were two wide-spread golden 


74 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 
)^^o■e=^o<=^>^c=>o<^^og=^o■c:^o■cr>o^g=>o■<— >c 

wings. This wand, which was given to 
him by Apollo, was called a Caduceus, 
and it always accompanied the Herald 
of the gods on his journeys. Taking 
Pandora by the hand, he hurried her 
from the workshop of Vulcan and at 
once launched forth upon the sustaining 
air. 

“We float, we soar, we fly, as swiftly 
as an arrow from Hyperion’s bow,” mer- 
rily cried the now happy Hermes to his 
lovely companion, as the yielding air 
folded itself round about them like huge, 
strong arms. On, on, they soared into 
infinite realms of space — through the 
warm sunshine and the cool cloudlands 
they flew, giving themselves up to the 
joy of motion and to gay outbursts of 

75 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

' >»<— sru >»< »C 

song. So swiftly did they fly through 
the whistling air that Hermes’s Cadu- 
ceus made sweet sounds like the Pan- 
dean pipes of the shepherds. Soon the 
eagle-eyed Hermes sighted Earth, and 
the fearless aviator shouted loudly, 
“Hoa! Ho! Ho!” There being no re- 
sponse, they boldly approached the 
threshold of Epimetheus’ cottage. 
“Hail, Epimetheus! All hail kind 
friend! Oho! stupid fellow,” cried the 
impudent Hermes, “why dost thou not 
greet us? Dost thou not know me, Epi- 
metheus?” 

We can readily fancy the surprise of 
Epimetheus who was too amazed to 
know what to do, or to say, or to think. 
He stood upright, staring with wild be- 
76 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 




wildered eyes at his curious visitors, too 
astonished even to salute them. How- 
ever, he soon rallied his scattered senses, 
and warily answered his questioner: 
“By thy winged cap and winged shoes, 
and thy ugly staff, I know thee. Thou 
art Hermes, Captain of sneaks and 
thieves. What now hast thou been steal- 
ing? I hope not this beautiful goddess. 
Hermes, why comest thou at this hour of 
the dawn? Art thou bearing this soul 
to Hades? Thou cunning trickster, I 
dare say that some mischief is brewing 
in thy evil mind.” 

“Epimetheus, thou art a doltish fel- 
low,” exclaimed the unashamed Hermes, 
“and thou art wrong in thy guess. I am 
sent by the all-powerful Zeus, the bearer 


77 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)'C=><)<='0«=><)^='0'C=»0<=>0<=>0<=^0<=>()'^=-< 

of his gift, this beautiful maiden, who is 
to be thy wife, and is the expression of 
the gods’ fellow-feeling for thee in thy 
loneliness.” With mock politeness 
Hermes bowed before Epimetheus, and 
impishly said: “Who thinks of marry- 
ing hath already taken one step upon the 
road to repentance.” Hermes could 
scarcely repress a laugh as he gave Pan- 
dora her wedding present, with the cau- 
tion : “This Box must never be opened.” 
Then with a “Farewell, Pandora,” the 
Messenger of the gods was gone. 

It is many, many thousand years since 
Epimetheus and Pandora lived upon 
Earth, and the world is very different 
now from what it was in those early 
times, when there was practically no 
78 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

work of any kind to be done. Whenever 
man wanted his food he had only to go 
to the growing tree or blossoming vine. 
There were few clothes to be made — in 
fact, very little labor of any kind to be 
done, for the Earth brought forth all 
things necessary to man’s comfort and 
happiness. 

It was always spring, and flowers and 
fruits grew in rich abundance. The 
very rivers flowed with milk and honey. 
Truth, right and justice prevailed with- 
out law or force to compel them. Poets 
call this the Golden Age of Earth. 

In the midst of all this peace and har- 
mony, Pandora and Epimetheus should 
have been very happy; and they were 
for a time. But, as Pandora wandered 


79 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

u > » < > n < . n^— > n < ■ > ? 


through Earth’s fragrant pathways, she 
thought more and more of the Box made 
of ivory and gold. Ah ! the fatal gift of 
curiosity, bestowed upon her by impish 
Hermes ! Pandora seemed led by some 
strange power she could not resist to the 
mysterious Box. Her feet became weary 
wandering to and fro. Think how try- 
ing it must have been for patient Epi- 
metheus, accustomed to peace and quiet, 
to have Pandora prattling about the Box 
all the time, dinning her curiosity into 
his tired ears from morning till night. So 
continually did she prate about “the Box, 
the Box,” that finally Epimetheus be- 
came vexed with her. In fact Pandora’s 
inquisitiveness had become a very seri- 
ous fault. She would stand before the 


8o 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

Box and look longingly at it. To tell the 
truth, she did nothing else all the day 
long. On this particular occasion, when 
her curiosity had become very insistent, 
she loudly cried out: “That Box flouts 
me. As I hearken now and then, I seem 
to hear some whispering sounds within. 
Oh, I am sure I shall never be happy un- 
til I have opened the Box and discovered 
the mystery.” 

Her worried and care-worn face was 
sad to look upon. Through worry and 
loss of sleep she had become white and 
listless. “Ah,” she thought, “I shall 
never be happy again. Would that some 
kind goddess might come and with the 
silken leaves of poppies bind up my ach- 
ing head. Oh, I can not bear this alone ; 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)<r—>0'C7—>0'C=>0‘C=>0<—>0^—>0'C=:>0'C=>0^=>0^^< 

I must call Epimetheus. Oh, Epime- 
theus, I entreat you to open yonder 
Box,” and she fell upon her knees, beg- 
ging him to help her. 

Sleepy Epimetheus drowsily inquired, 
“What is this you are asking. Pandora?” 

Pandora could only sob out, “The 
Box, the Box, Epimetheus.” 

“Still harping on the Box,” cried 
vexed Epimetheus; “I know not, and I 
care not what yonder Box contains. I 
beg you. Pandora, do not seek to learn 
what the gods in their wisdom have hid- 
den from thee, till they in their good 
time and pleasure reveal it.” Then stu- 
pid Epimetheus turned over for another 
nap leaving poor Pandora alone in the 
hour of her temptation. 

82 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

Pandora, having reached a state in 
which she did not care what the conse- 
quences might be, approached the Box 
and rashly exclaimed: “I will resist no 
longer; whether it means good or evil, 
life or death, this very moment I shall 
lift the cover from the mysterious Box, 
that it may give up its secret contents.” 
Accordingly, Pandora lifted the ivory 
cover and cautiously peeped in. But she 
hurriedly replaced it as she thought she 
heard the sound of small voices from 
within, whispering: “Let us out. Pan-' 
dora.” At all events, she was greatly dis- 
mayed by these terrifying sounds, and 
cried out: “Oh, what can it mean? 
What can it mean !” 

“Pooh ! pooh. Pandora,” whispered an 

83 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

W— >n< >!>< 

evil voice in her ear, “why let sudden 
terror seize thee? There is nothing to 
fear in the Box. I thought thou wast 
resolved to know thy fortune !” 

Angered by these words, she snatched 
the lid from the fateful Box and threw 
it upon the floor. For a moment there 
was a terrifying sound of low whisper- 
ings, a steady buzzing and murmuring, 
then a prolonged hissing noise like an 
arrow whistling through the air. Then, 
O sudden Woe! a deadly multitude of 
frightful beings swirled from the Box 
and in much less time than it takes to 
tell it, the room appeared to be crowded 
with all kinds of hideous beings in mo- 
tion. They looked something like wasps 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

or hornets, or some bristling, stinging 
insects. But, children, they were very 
much worse than any of these, for they 
were in reality all kinds of earthly Trou- 
bles. Sorrow and Distress were there. 
Sickness, too; and Pain, and Torture of 
mind and body ! Then there was Anger, 
with his hot desire to punish everybody. 
Envy was there also with his hideous, 
grudging eyes, while Hatred and False- 
hood, those two ugly murderers of hap- 
piness, stood in a corner of the room, 
staring impudently at poor Pandora, 
Pandora ran from the riotous scene 
out into her garden, in the wild hope of 
escape. But out came the whole brood 
of earthly Troubles flying after her. 
85 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

Everything which has since afflicted the 
soul of mankind appeared to have been 
in the mysterious Box. 

As if foreshadowing some terrible dis- 
aster, a heavy black cloud swept over 
the sun, and it grew dark. Desolation 
was everywhere. Pandora’s lovely gar- 
den was destroyed; all her beautiful 
flowers were dead ; the pretty walks were 
strewn with shattered boughs. The birds 
were silent. Even the happy little brook 
sobbed in sorrow. Pandora, frightened 
and dismayed, returned to her ruined 
home and threw herself upon the floor, 
where she sobbed as if her heart would 
break. Suddenly, to her great wonder, 
she heard a gentle tap on the lid which 
she had replaced on the fatal Box. 

86 


THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 
)'C^oc^o^='0<=>()<=:>o<=:>0'e=^o<:^o<=»()^=c 

“Now, what can that be?” cried Pan- 
dora, filled with consternation. Again 
sounded the fairy-like “tap, tap, tap,” 
each tap louder than the other. “Who 
are you, and what are you, inside this 
horrid Box?” cried Pandora. 

“Lift the lid and you shall see,” said 
a voice — sweet as the voice of an angel. 

“No, no,” cried Pandora, shaking her 
head distrustfully. 

“Oh, I entreat you'. Pandora ! Won’t 
you let me out?” cried the pleading 
voice. 

Pandora’s heart grew lighter at each 
plea for help. There was an appeal, an 
enchantment in the voice and words 
that she felt she could no longer resist. 

“Come, come. Pandora,” said the 

87 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

entreating voice. “I do implore you 
mercifully to let me out. I am Hope.” 

Pandora cautiously lifted the lid 
when out flew a fairy-like creature 
with shiny, glistening wings and as she 
lightly flitted to and fro into the dark 
corners and out again, she brought 
warmth and light like that of the noon- 
day sun. 

“Why, you blessed being!” joyously 
exclaimed Pandora. “I believe you are 
all light! Who are you, oh, wondrous 
creature? Are you’ a vision, — some 
creature of my fancy? Or are you not 
a good fairy who has come to drive 
away those horrid imps who have so 
cruelly beset me?” 

“I am Hope,” came the gentle reply; 

88 





Out flew a fairy-like creature 



.1 


• i 



THE MYSTERIOUS BOX 

“I shall stay with you, Pandora, to com- 
fort and bless you as long as you need 
me.” The fairy-like creature fluttered 
about Pandora, kissing her upon the 
forehead and cheek. There was heal- 
ing in her touch and words as she ex- 
claimed : 

“Dry thy tears. Pandora. There shall 
be a day of sunny rest for every dark and 
troubled night you have. Wherever you 
find sorrow, there you shall find me also. 
Henceforth, whatever your troubles 
may be you shall not be without hope.” 

And then she floated away in the warm 
glory of the sunshine to be forever man’s 
greatest comfort. 


WHEN PAN PIPES 



NCE upon a time, long, long ago. 


in what is known as the spring- 
time of life, there lived in lovely, flower- 
jeweled Hellas a handsome youth by the 
name of Rhoecus. You will, I am sure, 
find much pleasure in hearing his story 
and in becoming acquainted with the 
charming earth spirits and other delight- 
ful creatures in this land of enchant- 
ment, where people with believing child- 
eyes may see the nymphs dance to the 
pipe of Pan as he fares forth from some 
sun-lit grove with a garland of pine 
leaves around his head. 

The hero of our little story lived cen- 
turies before Christ. There was no Bi- 


90 


WHEN PAN PIPES 


>^:^()'esiO'C:>o^^()g=>()<=:s'()^:y)<=r>0'^^()g=>c 

ble, but philosophy taught that some- 
where there was a world eternal and 
good, and that man can not be happy un- 
less he is good, and can not be good if he 
is ignorant. Consequently, all kinds of 
learning were held in high esteem. 

Rhoecus lived near a grove of oak 
trees held sacred as the grove of Jupi- 
ter, — a retreat of philosophers and wise 
teachers. He often went to this sacred 
grove for the study of philosophy and 
for religious instruction. Here he 
found many youths like himself eager 
and hungry for every word of wisdom 
and eloquence which fell from the lips 
of these wise men. 

How picturesque Rhoecus looked as 
he swung along with vigorous stride un- 


91 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

i^^)<=>0'C=>0'C=>o<=^)'C=:>0'^=xyc^o^=>o<r=>i 

der the venerable oaks ! He was a Greek 
athlete, proud and imperious. He was 
fair-haired, blue-eyed, and like all Greek 
gentlemen, he had a fancy for self- 
adornment. His nobly poised head was 
carried high and was bare; he wore san- 
dals, a neatly draped mantle, and a tunic 
of rich red cloth girded at the waist with 
a heavy gold cord and tassels. Rhoecus 
was a splendid type of the true Athenian 
gentleman of the golden days of Hellas ; 
a youth alert in mind and body, one who 
showed strong traces of the “Divine 
Fire.” 

When the world was young, people 
believed that spirits dwelt in trees, in 
streams and in mountains. The Greeks, 
three thousand years ago, worshiped 


92 


WHEN PAN PIPES 

everything in Nature. The snow-capped 
mountains were their altars, the sun-lit 
groves their temples. Then the groves 
became alive with fairies hidden in the 
flowers, and lovely dryads appeared in 
the trees. The dryads and hamadryads 
were wood nymphs and lived in trees, 
and were believed to perish when the 
trees died. They could appreciate serv- 
ice as well as punish injuries, at least so 
saith the lore of the gods and the ancient 
stories of the people. When Pan piped 
among the reeds and trees the dryads 
would come out and lovely maidens rise 
from the sparkling streams, gamboling 
and dancing lightly to the music around 
the trees or upon the lawn. But these 
jolly fairy folk needed to be careful and 


93 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR: FOLK 

>n< 

not stay away too long, or the trees 
would wither and perish. This beauti- 
ful belief made the Greeks very cau- 
tious not wantonly to injure trees or cut 
them down without good cause. 

On this particular morning the sacred 
grove resounded with the songs of many 
birds and the melody of falling waters. 
The tall trees stood about in stately dig- 
nity. It was a place of solitude, mystery 
and secrecy. Rhoecus read wonderful 
tales in the trees and flowers. Presently 
he stopped, — his soul was filled with the 
magic spell and beauty of the place. He 
craved that which his eye did not see, and 
his ear did not hear, and he lifted up his 
voice in supplication and prayed in this 
manner : 


94 



Lovely maidens would rise from the sparkling streams 



WHEN PAN PIPES 


)C=>()<=^<)<=>0<=>0'C=X)<=>0'C=><)'C^0<=>0<=>C 

“Beloved Pan! and all ye other gods 
who in this grove abide, grant to me that 
I may be good and beautiful within. As 
my life has been made harmonious with- 
out, make it so within. Teach me to be 
wise, teach me to hate vice and igno- 
rance. Make me wise so that I may be 
rich. Oh, Pan, thou god of this sacred 
grove, I am awed at all this immortal 
beauty I behold!” 

As Rhoecus turned to depart from the 
pleasant woodland with a look of rap- 
ture upon his face, he saw an old oak tree 
trembling and about to fall. A feeling 
of great pity swept over him. He 
stooped and very tenderly propped its 
gnarled trunk whereon were votive gar- 
lands of flowers and numerous inscrip- 


95 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

tions, expressing the gratitude of sup- 
plicants to the Nymph of the tree. He 
thought he heard a voice and there 
was a slight tremor of the great tree’s 
boughs. He paused, somewhat bewil- 
dered; again he heard the voice. His 
name “Rhoecus” was murmured. It 
was as if the leaves were moved by the 
gentlest of breezes. Yet again it mur- 
mured “Rhoecus,” and he beheld, with 
dizzy eyes, a wondrous and most glori- 
ous creature standing before him. Her 
unbound hair streamed loosely over her 
fair shoulders in charming disorder, 
and her eyes shone like two bright stars, 
radiating a warm glow and light over 
everything in the shadowy forest. 

“Rhoecus,” said the lovely Nymph, 
96 


WHEN PAN PIPES 

)'='0<=>0<=>0<=>0<=.()'C=X)'=>0<=S.O«=>O.C=^( 

her low-toned words falling as serene 
and clear as the jeweled dew dripping 
from the oak’s leaves, “I am the Dryad 
of this venerable oak; with it I am 
doomed to die. My happiness is made of 
the bright sunshine which has warmed 
this grove into fertility and beauty. 
Rhoecus,” she continued, “you have 
saved my life. What would you ask in 
payment for this great service?” 

Rhoecus’ heart fluttered with expect- 
ancy and beat high with hope, while he 
considered as to what might be a suitable 
reward, for by this time he, too, had set 
a high estimate upon his act. He said 
to himself, “Since there is nothing in life 
which can satisfy the longings of the hu- 
man heart but love, and since the lovely 


97 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)«=>0<=>0'=>()'^=’0'C=>0'=’()-C=>O.C=><)-C='0'C=>( 

Nymph bade me ask what I wanted most, 
I shall be bold and ask for her love.” 
“My sweet and lovely Nymph,” quoth 
he, “I beseech you to give me your love. 
I desire that above all other gifts.” 

There was a little pause and the glo- 
rious eyes of the Dryad filled with tears. 
Then, with trembling lips, she said : “I 
give it, Rhoecus, though it is a danger- 
ous gift. Come to me here in this grove 
later in the day. I will send my mes- 
senger, the Bee, to let you know when I 
want you — probably about the time of 
sunset.” 

Rhoecus went on his way proud and 
very happy. He doubted not that he had 
been blest; the sky looked bluer than 
usual, the birds sang as if it were the only 
98 


WHEN PAN PIPES 

>o.f— >n<— sfw— 

rosy morning of the whole year, and the 
sun showered the grove with a deluge of 
light. Rhoecus was so light-hearted and 
happy that he could scarcely keep his 
feet upon the ground as he hastened on 
to meet some gay companions who had 
arranged a game of dice. He sportively 
joined them in the game and very soon 
forgot all else. 

The afternoon passed quickly and 
merrily. While the dice rattled gaily 
and their spirits were merriest, a yellow 
Bee flew in at an open window just as 
young Rhoecus had made a happy 
throw, and buzzed round his ears as if 
about to alight. Rhoecus gave a merry 
laugh and brushed the Bee away, saying, 
“By Venus, does it take me for a rose?” 


99 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

)<=S'0'^=’O'e=>O'C=>a<=:»O'C=D’()^^o^=’O'C=^o<:^c 

But still the little messenger came back 
again and again. Finally in anger, 
Rhoecus impatiently struck the Bee as it 
flew through the open window. While 
he tracked the wounded creature’s 
course with angry eyes, he saw the glo- 
rious sunset light fading from the distant 
mountain peak. Instantly the blood 
sank from his face, and without a word 
to his comrades, he turned and rushed 
madly across the city and through its 
gates. Over the plain he swiftly flew on 
wings of love to the woods’ long shade. 
Quite spent and out of breath when he 
reached the trysting place, and listening 
fearfully, he once more heard the sweet, 
low voice. 

“Rhoecus,” it murmured, whereat he 

lOO 


WHEN PAN PIPES 

cautiously looked around him, but could 
see nothing except the deepening gloom 
of the grove. Then he heard a deep sigh, 
and the words: “O, alas! Rhoecus, 
nevermore shalt thou see me, who 
would have blest thee with rny great 
love. Why didst thou scorn my little 
messenger and send her back with 
bruised and torn wing? Rhoecus, you 
have derided the least of Nature’s 
works; from henceforth you are exiled 
and shut out from all. Nature is only 
for gentle eyes. It demands an undi- 
vided love. Farewell, Rhoecus, fare- 
well! For thou canst never see me 
again.” 

Rhoecus, distraught, beat his breast 
and cried: “Be merciful, gentle Dryad! 


OUTDOOR STORIES FOR INDOOR FOLK 

I entreat you to be merciful; let me at 
least look once more upon you. Oh I 
forgive me, I knew not what I did.” 

“Alas,” said the Dryad, “I am not un- 
merciful, dear Rhoecus. I do forgive 
you, but thou art blind, not I unmerci- 
ful, and I have no skill to heal thy 
blinded eyes. Only the soul has power 
over itself.” Then he heard the ominous 
“Nevermore !” 

The night had gathered round 
Rhoecus with its sublimity of stars. 
Beauty and delight were all about him, 
but from that hour he was alone on earth. 


THE END 


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